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<title>our hearts need work (i'm scared we're born to lose) by legobatmanshusband</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26648563">our hearts need work (i'm scared we're born to lose)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/legobatmanshusband/pseuds/legobatmanshusband'>legobatmanshusband</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Torchwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, COE Fix-it, Hurt/Comfort, Jack Angst, M/M, Near Death Experience, Nightmares, Not COE compliant, Post Children of Earth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:48:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>994</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26648563</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/legobatmanshusband/pseuds/legobatmanshusband</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>" my heart needs work, it does what it wants to do .  keeps falling in love when i should've known better .  my words get stuck so I taught myself to smile,  so sick of us, and i hope i never get better "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>jack harkness doesn't want to think about what might have happened if ianto hadn't made it out of thames house .  but he can't help dreaming about it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>( title + lyrics from great party - frank iero and the future violents )</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>our hearts need work (i'm scared we're born to lose)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>after the events of coe, ianto and jack go off the grid .  torchwood is dead ,  and the world very nearly came to an end .  they are on the run ,  they have nowhere else to go .  the events of first born by james goss are occuring adjacent to this .</p>
<p>i thought about making this longer, but i thought this little angsty moment was good enough to post. hope you like it &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em>I’m standing in Thames House in front of a massive glass tank, and the alien inside is talking to me. It knows me. We’ve met before.</em>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <em><br/>Once.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>I risk a glance in Ianto’s direction. He’s standing there, looking like he’s about to smash the glass and kill the thing with his bare hands. I know he’s thinking about his niece and nephew. About the fact that he hasn’t seen them in months, maybe years. He feels like he owes this to them.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>Maybe I do, too.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>The creature speaks, and the words ring dully in my head. I know what it’s saying. I hear it every night, over and over again, in my head.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>And then suddenly Ianto’s collapsed onto the floor, and I’m following suit. Partly because I know, somewhere in my panicked, aching heart, that this might be the last time I ever see him alive. And partly because the virus is already starting to infect my lungs. </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>I beg. And plead. With the creature, with Ianto. But I can’t say what I need to say. I can’t make my lips form the words. I can’t say I love him. I can’t say goodbye.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>This can’t be the end.</em>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <em><br/>And then his eyes are closing, ever so slowly, like he’s trying so hard to keep them open, but he can’t.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>And I press one final kiss to his lips.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>Before my head reaches the ground, the scene changes. Just like it does every night. </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>I’m standing on the Plass, and it’s raining mercilessly down on the pavement, and he’s standing there, by the water tower. From a distance, I know it’s him. He’s wearing a charcoal three-piece suit, a white shirt, and a striped tie. A pair of giant angel wings emerge from his back. They flap lazily, like a bird who was debating whether or not to take off, and were seemingly unphased by the pounding rain.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>I run towards him, but, like most dreams of this nature, I’m not getting any closer. He just stands there, like he’s been sent straight from heaven, and I’m running in place, desperate to get to him.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>Eventually, I give up. I’m out of breath. I drop to my knees and the pavement sinks like carpet underneath them. I start to cry. I sob and sob and clutch my stomach as I heave breaths full of the soggy air. I can’t stop. Everything starts to burn. My muscles ache, my head pounds.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>And then suddenly Ianto’s standing right in front of me. His massive wings shield me from the rain, and he stares down at me with this look. This look that’s utterly unreadable. Like when he kissed me for the first time in the SUV, or when he held me as I came back to life from Clem’s shot.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>It isn’t love. But it’s not hatred either. He kneels down, wings flapping lightly, and holds my chin with his thumb and forefinger. I almost melt into his touch.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>I watch as his eyes start to change. They go from the icy blue I know so well to a milky white. His pupils vanish, like they’d never been there at all, but I can tell he’s still looking right at me. The tears on my face seem to boil off, leaving red streaks.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>“Jack,” he says, and his Welsh baritone sounds almost ethereal, detached from everything else. Ringing in my ears like the sweetest bells. Like music. He sounds like music. The rain soaks through my hair and coat, and I stare into his eyes, unable to look away.<br/><br/></em>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>“Ianto,” I breathe, feeling my heart wrench as the name leaves my lips.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>The rain roars in my ears, but I hardly process it. I feel his lips press against mine, and memories flood my pounding head. The pain is overwhelming, but his kiss tastes so sweet. When he pulls away, he is glowing. </em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>And Cardiff Bay has disappeared.</em>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <em>All at once, the darkness envelopes him. First the wings, disappearing as if they are being drowned in oil. Then it consumes the rest of him, and I can see his face. I can tell he’s screaming.</em>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <em><br/>But I can’t hear it.</em>
</p>
<p class="p1"><em><br/>“Ianto, Ianto, </em>no, <em>please, Ianto. Shit, come back, </em>please<em> come back.”<br/><br/>But he’s gone.</em></p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">And then I wake up.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">***</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Jack Harkness gasped and sat up quickly in bed, throwing the covers down to his feet. He felt sick, and he was half-crying, half-gasping for breath. He shuddered, rather violently, and tried to calm himself down. </p>
<p class="p1"><br/>“Jack?” Ianto asked drowsily, sitting up on his elbows. When he saw the state Jack was in, he sat up fully with concern in his half-asleep eyes. “Hey, you alright?”</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Jack nodded, but nothing about his posture indicated he was. Inhaling a ragged breath, he slid back down onto the pillow, which he now realized was soaked with sweat. He felt Ianto’s hands on him, one tangled in his hair, the other around his waist. Ianto massaged his scalp carefully, tangling his fingers in Jack's hair, and kissed him on the forehead.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">“Dreams, again?”</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">“Yeah,” Jack said, then quietly added, “I think they’re getting worse.”<br/><br/>“Same thing again?”<br/><br/>“Thames House. You were… dying… all over again.”<br/><br/>Jack didn’t tell him about the last dream. He was too frightened by it. By whatever implications it held. And he didn’t want to stress Ianto out more than he already had.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Ianto kissed him softly again, this time on the lips. “You know it wasn’t real though, right?”<br/><br/>“What if it is, though?”<br/><br/>“What?”<br/><br/>“What if it’s some kinda premonition? What if you’re going to die anyway, despite everything?”<br/><br/>Ianto gave him a look, swiping the tears from Jack’s eyes with his thumb. “Get some sleep, Jack.”</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">Comfortable silence descended upon the two of them until Ianto heard Jack snoring softly. Then, Ianto slipped out from under the covers and went to grab his laptop.</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">There was still work to be done. </p>
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